Guarded Hearts
by typewriter91
Summary: Draco Malfoy is killed in the Battle of Hogwarts. Before crossing into the afterlife, he is faced with a choice: Go forward into eternal damnation, or return to the world and right his wrongs. In order to fix his many mistakes, he is made a Guardian. His task? Serve and protect Hermione Granger at all costs.
1. Prologue: The Choice

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me and I am making no profit in the creation of this story.**

**AN: Thank you to my beta for this chapter EnigmaticEyes16! **

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Prologue: The Choice

There were massive holes in the thick, protective walls that had once seemed so impenetrable. It wouldn't be long before the Dark Lord's army was inside. Ashes rained down from the sky in haunting flurries as Draco picked himself up off the ground and crashed against the nearest pillar next to Goyle, pressing his shoulder to the cool stone while he caught his breath and held back tears. His throat hurt from breathing in the harsh Fiendfyre that had moments ago claimed the life of their friend.

Gods, how had he gotten here?

His eyes closed, feeling a stinging pain behind them that he knew would overflow if he didn't stop it in time. This was war; he wasn't about to let himself sob like a child. His pride was too important to him to let that happen. Instead, Draco took a deep breath in, pinched the bridge of his nose, and stood up straight. Once he had collected himself fully, he reached into his robes in an effort to turn back to the fight, only to remember at the last moment that he didn't have a wand. He'd lost it in the Room of Requirement. His shoulders fell. He needed to figure out what his next course of action should be since he'd been unable to snatch Potter and another attempt would be futile.

The events in the Room of Requirement had assured Draco that he wouldn't be able to turn Wonder Boy over to the Dark Lord as planned. He'd failed at the task despite his desperate desire to prove his family's worth in this final hour. His gaze fell on Goyle one last time. The boy looked as though he were hyperventilating. Goyle would be of no help to him now and if Draco'd been unable to do what was necessary with two others to assist him, then any last attempts would surely be pitiful on his own.

His gaze fell coolly on the Golden Trio who stood just a short way down the hall from him, leaning close to each other and talking excitedly about something. Draco rolled his eyes in distaste. It wasn't as if they were in a bloody battle for their lives or anything. What the hell could they _possibly_ have to whisper about now? Once he'd taken a step closer for the purpose of eavesdropping, he realized they were talking about Crabbe and the Fiendfyre. His interest was suddenly peaked as he heard Granger mention something about a snake.

The only snake Draco knew of was the Dark Lord's familiar. He took another cautious step towards them all as curiosity took hold. Maybe if he stayed close but out of sight he could manage to do something productive for his family's sake. He was reaching the end of his tether; he had the feeling that by the end of the battle he and his parents would be killed either by the Order of the Phoenix or the Death Eaters. He'd been living on borrowed time since he'd failed to kill Dumbledore himself, and now death seemed inevitable yet terrifying. It was never good when both sides of a war despised you.

Decision made, Draco raced down a corridor after the trio only to realize they hadn't gotten very far. Just around the corner, Death Eaters were storming into the castle after finally breaching its entrance. Granger, Potter, and Weasley were engaged in a duel where they appeared to be helping two other redheads, all aiming stunners and jinxes at the cloaked figures in masks that were thundering towards them. Draco cowered away from the mess, knowing he'd be killed without a wand. He had no defense against a room full of hateful spells. He'd have to abandon his idea and go find his parents. Whatever Granger needed the snake for could wait.

Just as he was sliding his back against the stone walls, desperately trying to get to the other end of the chamber and away from the fight, the air seemed to twist and spark. Draco was standing a meter behind Granger when it happened; the partition he was pressed against exploded. It happened so quickly that there was no chance to think. One moment he was cowering against the wall and the next he was diving against Granger, dragging her to the floor beneath him. He had no idea why he did it. Perhaps he had reached for her to use as a shield. Perhaps she was just in the way as he tried to run to safety.

His mind couldn't catch up with the actions before his life was taken and darkness closed in.

Draco awoke sharply to a face full of grass. His mouth filled with the dirty strands, choking him until he panicked and shoved himself up onto his elbows. His frazzled gaze ran over the vibrantly green earth beneath his palms that seemed unoffending now that it wasn't blocking his airway. He plucked a blade from the ground, running it through his fingers thoughtfully. He was confused by its existence.

The lush grass seemed so unlike something one would find in the fires of hell, which was where he assumed he'd be. He was surprised by how obvious the circumstance of his death seemed to him. In life, he'd thought death would sort of just come over you like a deep sleep when your time came. Now he realized it was like being blasted by awareness. A slap in the face by the universe.

"You realize you're dead then?" a boisterous voice questioned from just above, causing him to flip over in surprise.

"Cover the goods, Draco," a green-haired Nymphadora Tonks teased, holding her hand up to block the image of said "goods" from her sight and turning the man in question a lovely shade of fuchsia as he curled into a ball in an attempt to do what she said.

Shocked by the realization of his own nakedness, Draco began muttering curses beneath his breath. He helplessly glanced around for clothes. His desperate internal pleas seemed to signal some sort of higher power very suddenly, because the moment he thought it was the moment that some old Slytherin robes appeared on his body. He tried to look proud and unruffled as he crawled to his feet to tower over his cousin.

"Better, yeah?" Tonks asked, smiling at him in a way that made no sense considering their complete lack of a relationship in life. He noticed she was in a set of Hufflepuff robes and wondered if it'd been her old House. That'd be embarrassing; no wonder his mother had never mentioned it.

"Are you…?" Draco started, confused by her presence in his afterlife.

"Yeah," she responded, seeming at ease with the fact. "Bellatrix got me in the battle."

He winced, strangely unsettled by how sad that made him. He resisted the urge that arose to apologize. It wasn't like _he'd_ killed her. In fact, he was here too, so they could consider themselves square. "Where are we?" he asked, sounding harsher than he'd intended.

"Look around," Tonks said simply, seeming immune to his attitude.

Draco did. He spun a bit to take in the grand surroundings that he'd been too distracted to notice before. They stood together in the center of the Quidditch pitch he'd spent so many years worshiping, the soaring stands rising majestically into the sky from all sides. He could see the Hogwarts castle a ways behind them on a cliff above the lake, appearing untarnished by the war. It all looked the same as it'd been in the last game he'd ever played. The field began to feel eerily haunted as Draco compared this heavenly perfect mirage to the reality of what it must look like in the world he'd left; so opposite of the beauty in front of him.

A lump formed in his throat. "Why am I here?"

Tonks gave him a pitying frown and her hair turned blue. "This is the one place in your life where you became the closest thing to the man you wanted to be. This pitch is the best of you, Draco. It's your Crossroads."

"My _what_?"

"Your Crossroads. Your purgatory, if you will," she stated, matter-of-factly. "You have a choice to make. You can go forward into your next world or you can go backwards to the life you left." She indicated each side of the field with a flourish.

"Well," he said arrogantly, lifting his nose. "I obviously choose life. You know, over the whole _dying_ thing."

She seemed to be struggling to resist an eye-roll at his expense. "It doesn't work like that, smartarse. It's not that easy. There are rules."

Draco huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He hated lectures.

"You can choose to go forward into your afterlife, but as someone who has made many mistakes in his time, you may not like the fate you'll be forced to spend eternity living," Tonks explained, waving her hands around to emphasize her points. She seemed incapable of standing still. "At least not yet. You see, you can choose to return to your world with the condition that you make all your wrongs right."

"Like feed the hungry?" he sneered, his nose crinkling at the thought.

Tonks did laugh at him then. "Gods, you're awful. You really do need this."

Anger rose quickly through Draco. He felt his face get hot in embarrassment, a feeling he'd always loathed more than anything. "Just tell me what the hell I've got to do," he barked, throwing his arms up in frustration.

"Alright, calm down," she smiled at him, reaching out to give him a surprisingly good-natured pat on his bicep. He was a bit unnerved by her friendly demeanor. "If you choose to go back, you're to prove you can behave selflessly. Your dying moment was spent protecting and saving someone else for the first time in your whole life. Someone you hated. To redeem yourself, you will protect an innocent from harm at the expense of your own wellbeing. Your sole purpose will become their safety."

Draco's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "You want me to be a babysitter?"

"Nothing so plain," she assured him. "You're to become a _Guardian_."

The title sent a surprising shiver of longing through Draco. It sounded both honorable and fierce, two things he'd never truly felt he was in his life. He thought about what he'd been doing before he died. He'd been cowering away from the fight until an explosion had ripped through him suddenly, forcing him to react. For some reason, that reaction had been to push Hermione Granger to the ground and out of the way. He'd only felt his body slam into hers for a moment before he'd been taken from that world. He didn't know if he'd done it heroically or out of malice, but either way he'd obviously saved her. And now, he was being punished for that.

"Not punished," Tonks said in response to his thoughts. "You're being rewarded with a second chance, if you want it."

Did he?

He'd always done what was easy, but both of the choices she'd given him seemed terribly difficult. Besides, he didn't know if he even believed in redemption. He'd made his choices in life and maybe it was about time he paid for them.

"Everyone can be saved, Draco," his cousin whispered, smiling kindly at him as her hair shifted from blue to purple. He looked over at her in confusion. She seemed to truly believe her words. "Maybe you just need to save someone else to see that you're deserving of it, too."

He nodded though he didn't really agree, scratching the back of his head as he looked over her shoulder towards the afterlife that he deserved now based on his many wrongdoings. Then, he turned to look behind him towards the life he was being given the chance to change in the hope of one day meeting paradise after death instead of eternal damnation. Both sides of the field seemed shrouded in fog, which seemed to symbolize the unclear future that lay ahead of him in either direction.

Draco shut his eyes, thinking hard. A part of him already knew what he was getting himself into. "It's Granger, isn't it?" he asked, hating the thought already.

Tonks merely shrugged. "Can you handle that for the sake of your soul?"

He pursed his lips and rubbed his jaw in frustration. He honestly didn't know if he could handle it, even to be rewarded with an endless heaven later. It'd be a challenge, there was no doubt about that. But he'd always liked a challenge. Besides, it would be somewhat satisfying to see the look on Granger's face.

He smirked then, his decision made. "What the hell? I haven't got that much to lose. Just my soul."

Tonks beamed at him despite the bite of his sarcasm and clapped her hands together enthusiastically. "Good for you, Draco! Now, off you go, but remember this is your one shot. Make it count."

He gave his cousin a little salute of acknowledgment before he spun and marched off in the direction toward the world he'd spent too much time forsaking. He'd make changes for his own sake, even if it meant helping Granger. He'd use this final shot to make a real difference in the world. When he reached the three goal posts on his side of the Quidditch pitch, he stepped into the fog to meet his destiny as a Guardian.

She was doing it again. It was the tenth time that Draco had followed her to the park, a memorial that'd been erected by the new Ministry of Magic as a symbol of the rebuilding process. Two weeks had passed since his death, meaning it had been 13 days since he'd started his duty of serving and protecting Hermione Granger. So far this had solely involved following her to and from the park and then watching as she looked dazed and hopeless on a bench by herself. It was even more depressing than the fact that he was no longer really human.

At least this time she wasn't crying. He hated that.

Draco huffed in frustration, impatient to get today's task over with. He'd been told it was time to Tag her. It was a bit of a relief to know he'd no longer have to stumble along after her like an idiot just to keep her in his sight and make sure she didn't fall off a bloody cliff or something; however, it was also a bit nerve-wracking considering what the Tag entailed. He figured he had no choice in the matter either way, but was still a bit concerned about how intimate it'd be. He'd been warned that the Tag would change him, he just wasn't told _how_.

Before he could waste any more time second guessing his choice to go through with this, Draco marched over to stand behind Granger. He knew she couldn't see him as he leaned against the bench to see the profile of her frowning face. She'd see him when he wanted to be seen and not a moment sooner. For now, Draco needed to just watch and wait for the time to be right. He'd been given a task and he'd be damned if he didn't complete it. Literally, he'd be _damned_.

Until the time came to save her from whatever dark forces were in her future, he'd need to Tag her in order to know where and how she was at all times. It'd make his job easier. So, he did it. He hesitated for only a moment longer before his will power and need to change drove him on. He sent a soft caress gently over the skin just behind her ear at the curve of her jaw. A shock ran up his arm at the contact and he watched as she shivered and tightened her arms around herself as if cold. A curled symbol began to etch itself over her translucent skin where his palm had ghosted, outlined in a shade only slightly darker than her natural tone.

Draco felt the change overcome him immediately.

So it began.

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**AN: So this is the lead off of my first Draco/Hermione story. Let me know what you think about it so far! Your reviews are greatly appreciated!**

**-Amanda**


	2. The Illusion of Safety

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me and I am making no profit in the creation of this story.**

**AN: Thank you to my wonderful beta for this chapter EnigmaticEyes16!**

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Chapter One: The Illusion of Safety

It was already a few minutes after nine o'clock in the morning when Hermione felt a prickle at the base of her skull, causing her head to shoot up in a panic. Before she could even look at the old-fashioned grandfather clock across her flat, she knew she was late. She only had twenty-two minutes to get to the conference room or there'd be no hope of the amendment going through.

She'd stayed up all night working on the final revisions of her new project, knowing it had to be perfect when she presented it at work today. All of her trouble would be for nothing if she didn't make it to the meeting on time; yet, she'd somehow fallen asleep at her desk. It was possibly the worst day for such a un-Hermione-like occurrence to happen. The pretentious dullards that made up the committee overseeing her would find any reason to stall the progress she and her colleagues were trying to make, and she'd rather eat her own eye than give them the satisfaction.

Jumping up, she raced down the hall towards her bedroom. Just as she made it through the doorway, her foot caught on the corner edge of the rug. She felt her breath leave her as she tipped forward. But before she could even brace herself for the crash, her body had righted itself completely, allowing her enough time to get her legs underneath her. Hermione only permitted herself a moment of confusion before she brushed it off as yet another example of her heightened reflexes since the war.

The mirror of her vanity set proved there was a lot of work to be done before she was presentable enough to face the committee. She winced at her reflection before grabbing her wand from the top of her dresser and beginning to cast a few charms to get rid of the dark circles under her eyes. Then she grabbed an antique comb with a dragonfly handle that she'd inherited from her grandmother and ferociously set about taming her hair until it could be tied back in a neat bun.

When she was sure she'd hidden all the evidence of her all-nighter from the scrutinizing gazes of those she'd be presenting to, she placed her grandmother's comb back where she always left it on her bedside table and made for her wardrobe. She was positive she could still beat the others to the conference.

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"How'd it go?" Harry asked, stepping into her office and shutting the door. "Did you give 'em hell?"

Hermione looked up from her paperwork and smiled. "I don't think they could say no to the amendment despite how much they want to. I've got the natural human right to freedom from discrimination on my side, as well as people in high places. I let Kingsley give my closing statement just to wave that part in their faces a bit. I can't imagine a scenario where it doesn't go through to the public vote."

"You're brilliant," he stated, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek before sitting on the edge of her desk.

She gave a mischievous grin in return. "I am, aren't I?"

Harry absentmindedly picked up a piece of parchment on which she'd written today's "To-Do List" and raised his eyebrows at her. The number one item listed was: _Kick some bigoted arse_. "I see you've really reigned in your ego over the years," he commented with a chuckle.

"I find that confidence gets results," she replied crisply, flushing. She ripped the offending list from his hands. "Which it did, as I've already said."

He laughed and sent her a wink. "No worries, 'Mione. If anyone has the right to confidence, it's you. I don't think you've failed at anything since you started up here at the Ministry after the war. You've got the angels on your side."

A chill ran up her spine at his words. Not a bad chill, just a keen sense of awareness that seemed to be occurring more often lately. It was true that since the war she'd been lucky. She found that even when the odds were pitted against her she managed to somehow pull through in the end. It was as if she was being looked after. When someone said something rude to her, they'd immediately be on the receiving end of bad karma. When she tripped like she'd done this morning, she'd catch herself in the nick of time. It was uncanny.

"Don't be silly," she said flippantly, despite her inner turmoil. She rose from behind her desk to swat at his shoulder as she moved to return a book she'd been using to its proper shelf. "All I've got on my side is stubborn persistence and friends in high places. It helps that the savior of the wizarding world has been going out of his way to support my amendment in the public eye. The people adore you, Harry. You could nominate a goat as the next Minister and people would vote for it just because you said so."

"That'd be a brilliant social experiment actually," he said matter-of-factly, smiling widely when she turned a playful glare on him. "I'd try it out if I weren't so keen on Kingsley remaining in office. Anyway, I was talking to Ron about the publicity your case has been gaining recently."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's actually something I've been wanting to discuss with you. We think this political campaign may start to get rough. There's been a lot of public outcry since this amendment. You're starting to step on some toes, to say the least."

Hermione had been expecting this for a while now. It was a chance she'd willingly took for the sake of the future of those like her. After the war, she'd only wanted one thing: to fix the laws that were segregating underprivileged people and creatures in their world based on their blood status. There'd been so many legislative wrongs in place prior to the Second Wizarding War, and they still existed today.

Hermione wanted change. She wanted equality for all magical folk and an end to the preferential treatment of purebloods. There were laws banning werewolves from employment, laws allowing for the abuse and degradation of house-elves, and many laws which clearly stated that muggle-borns and half-bloods were inferior and should be looked upon as such. It was utterly barbaric. The fact the no one had stepped up to make the reforms beforehand proved how much prejudice still existed, despite the end of the Dark Lord's reign of terror.

Her presentation this morning had only been the second amendment she'd placed before the board since she started working at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures five years ago after the war. The first allowed centaurs the right to formally and rightfully own the land they lived on. In the past it was said that the land was owned by the Ministry of Magic and the centaurs were _permitted_ to colonize there. Such laws allowed the Ministry to do whatever they wanted with the land the centaurs called home, which included up and moving the colonies if they so wanted. Hermione had passed an amendment allowing the leaders of the centaur herds to have ownership of their land, a legislative victory that had dulled much of the tension the creatures had toward wizarding-kind.

The current reform she was working on involved dispelling the anti-werewolf legislation put forth by Dolores Umbridge. Werewolves had been mistreated for decades, often left unemployed due to their incurable lycanthropy. This frequently resulted in poverty and starvation. Werewolves were even still listed as half-breeds under the Ministry's registry, which irked Hermione to no end. She was pushing for all werewolves to be categorized as the witches and wizards they were. Her long-term goal was to abolish the term _werewolf_ all together in favor of _people with lycanthropy_.

In memory of Remus Lupin.

"Most of the public didn't really bat an eye when you started working for the centaurs," Harry continued now, absently fiddling with his glasses. "The centaurs remove themselves from the wizarding population, so they're rarely given a second thought. You know: _out of sight, out of mind_. Werewolves, on the other hand, are very much a part of our world. They pose an immediate threat, or so they say."

Hermione pursed her lips in annoyance. She was well aware of the situation _and_ the arguments against those she was trying to help. "People are still afraid of them. They don't want them in their workplaces or around their children."

"Yes, and it makes it worse that many werewolves supported Voldemort in the war," Harry remarked with a frown. "The public associates all werewolves with the dark times. It angers them that you, a war hero, are standing up for what they consider the enemy."

Hermione raised her hands in the air, using motions to accent her argument. "As I told the committee earlier, people suffering lycanthropy had nowhere else to go. They were mistreated and forced from society like outcasts. The Death Eaters offered them a community to be a part of, something never before obtainable. They can't be blamed for making the choice to live instead of starve."

She took a deep breath, realizing she had gotten herself very much riled up.

"_I_ know that and _you_ know that," Harry argued gently, casting a finger back and forth between them. "But _they_ don't know that. Honestly, I don't think the overall legislation will go through once it's in the public's hands. At least not now."

"You're saying that even if the committee passes it through to the public vote, it won't end in our favor," she surmised sadly, dropping into her seat with a heavy sigh. "I can't say I'd be surprised. I knew this would be more difficult than the work with the centaurs."

"No," Harry objected, reaching forward to clasp both of her hands. "I'm just saying that we've got work to do. For now, congratulations. The first part is over, so let's go celebrate with dinner. Ron will be along shortly. I told him we'd meet him at that little Italian place that opened in muggle London just a block from the Leaky Cauldron."

"Fine," Hermione murmured, still cranky from the wake-up call. "But you both owe me a drink."

Hours later, the trio apparated back to Hermione's flat with the intention of watching a film on her telly. Ron was fascinated by the device, which led to many jokes at his expense by the others who were well-versed in technology. It'd remained a novelty over the years to the redhead, especially as advancements were made in media in the muggle world. It was an endless source of amusement.

"What film shall we watch?" Hermione asked, reaching into her fridge for a bottle of white wine once realizing the boys had cleaned her out of beer the last time they'd stopped over. She grabbed a few glasses from her cabinet and filled one for each of them.

"Give us a chance to look," Ron replied, smiling his gratitude as she handed them their drinks. Harry and he squatted on the floor to look over her collection.

She laughed as she watched them bicker over which film to choose, before deciding to change into her pyjamas and get comfortable. She strolled off down the hall, happier after having dinner with her boys. They always made her feel better and see more clearly. She once again felt proud of the work she'd done that day instead of focusing on the long way left to go. If the amendment passed to a public vote it was quite an accomplishment in itself. It was important to keep sight of that through the rough roads ahead.

As Hermione stepped into her bedroom, she froze, suddenly sensing something was amiss. She felt her hair stand up at the nape of her neck and her wine slip from her fingers in surprise. Her wand was out in a moment, aimed ahead of her as she muttered a quick charm that lit up her room and dispelled the eerie shadows that were unwelcome when her nerves were so frayed. She hollered for Harry and Ron, sidestepping quickly to look behind her doors and start a sweep of her room.

Both men had their wands drawn as they quickly and quietly burst into her line of sight. They exchanged glances with each other before moving to separate sides of the room. Harry dropped to the floor and checked under the bed while Ron flicked his wrist to open her wardrobe and flick aside any clothes that could be hiding an unwanted presence. Harry jumped back up and made for the loo.

"Clear," all three of them said.

"You think someone's been here?" Ron asked, though he already knew the answer. He dropped his wand arm and glanced over at her with a look of unconcealed panic. When Harry staggered back into the room with his jaw clenched she saw a similar emotion playing across his features. She knew this was their worst nightmare. The boys cared so deeply about her well-being, and it was surely killing them to know her home had been broken into.

She nodded in reply, still feeling the uncomfortable sensation at the base of her skull that assured her someone unwelcome had breached her wards. Truth be told, she'd often felt a presence in her home other than herself. She'd never voiced the unnerving thought, because she'd never felt violated by it. This presence had been different though. She felt eyes on her, lurking dangerously as if still in the room. This was not protection; it was hunting.

"Someone's definitely been here," she whispered, eyes falling to her empty bedside table. Her blood ran cold.

Harry reached over to rub her arms, no doubt trying to ward off the goose-pimples that now covered her skin. "How do you know?"

Hermione leaned against him, concerned for the first time in a very long while about her safety. "My comb. It's gone."

* * *

Anger coursed through him, spreading through his veins like wildfire. He didn't know how the fiend had managed it. No one should have been capable of crossing his wards. He'd spent days creating the invisible wall of protection around her, enhancing it every so often as time went by. In the five years he'd stood guard as her living, breathing shadow, this had never happened. This incident meant it was _beginning_; his very reason for being was about to be tested.

Draco watched intently from the corner of Hermione's bedroom as Potter and Weasley pulled her protectively between them. He felt the safety of their touch melt over her as if the feeling was his own. He felt the tension leave his shoulders as her fear slowly ebbed. He hated when she was afraid, hated when she experienced any negative emotions whatsoever.

"I'll be right back," Potter announced, giving her a quick kiss on her forehead before running off, surely to alert the authorities.

Weasley gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I'm going to get a towel to help you clean up the spill."

Hermione's answering smile was small but thankful.

The moment Weasley was out the door, Draco took a step closer to her. The magnetic pull he detected when he was around her was infuriating, a constant tug that he'd been able to feel between his shoulder blades since the moment he'd Tagged her five years ago. He hesitated when he was close enough to touch her, hating the temptation he felt to reach out. Instead, he raised his hand and let a gentle breeze flow from his fingers, propelling her curls lightly away from her neck so that he could see her mark. _His_ mark.

Her emotions flared up again, sending him a wave of confusion. She'd felt him. Draco scrutinized her carefully as she turned towards him, eyes wide and alert. For a second, he thought she'd seen him, but then those piercing brown eyes moved right over him as usual. He was hit with a sudden sense of longing. He didn't know if the emotion was hers or his; either way, he felt relief knowing his life of hiding from her was almost over.

It was time.

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**AN: There's chapter one for your reading pleasure! The next chapter will start picking up. It'll also have some more Draco in it, which I personally am _very_ excited for. As always, let me know what you think by reviewing! And if you have an opinion, please go to my profile and take my poll for my next pairing. Sirius/Hermione is currently in the lead!**

**Amanda**


	3. The Man in the Mask

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me and I am making no profit in the creation of this story.**

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Chapter Two: The Man in the Mask

It was well into the morning hours before the Aurors left. Hermione had watched as they ransacked her flat, looking for signs of the intruder and testing her wards in an attempt to understand how the criminal had gotten past them. She'd numbly looked on as they carefully took apart all of her belongings and then put them back together exactly as they'd been. It would have been impressive if she hadn't been sleep-deprived and cranky.

When the last official left her building to head to the apparition point just south of where she lived, Hermione sagged in relief. She'd hated having so many people in her home. Instead of making her feel safe, it had made her feel weak; as though she needed dozens of members of the wizarding authority to protect her from the threat that was looming on the horizon. Hermione liked to think she could take of herself if the need arose, but Harry and Ron had insisted that their colleagues properly survey the area.

The Aurors had been looking for dark magic residue in particular. She'd known from the start they wouldn't find anything though. Anyone who'd been clever enough to get through her wards, had to be smart enough to do it untraceably. So, when the crew came up short in their search, she'd just nodded her understanding coolly despite their reassurance that they'd keep pushing. It'd all be futile in the end.

"You going to be alright here alone?" Ron asked her as he fell onto the sofa at her side. "Or would you like us to stay 'til morning?"

Hermione took a sip of the tea Ron had made for her earlier. He'd insisted on it since she'd been unable to stop shivering, the realization that someone had trespassed into what she'd always considered her safe haven truly unsettling her. "Don't be silly," she argued now, "You've done enough for me tonight. I'm sorry you had to stay so late to begin with."

"Where else would we be?" Harry responded with calm reassurance, smiling at her as he leaned against the wall across from them.

"I don't know, it's not like you have girlfriends or anything," she said sarcastically, dropping her head back to rest against the heavenly soft cushions behind her. "I love you both, but go be with Ginny and Luna. Let's not make them worry."

Ron gave a deep sigh before he dragged himself to his feet and moved towards Harry. "I guess you've got a point there. We'll be off."

"Someone will be outside for the rest of the night keeping watch, just in case," Harry added. "Let us know if anything else happens."

They spent a moment gathering their coats before taking turns giving her warm embraces in farewell. Hermione frowned as she watched them leave the flat, resigning herself to a night of minimal sleep. There were only four hours left until she had to be at work and there was no way she'd sleep soundly after the night she'd had.

She remained standing on shaky legs for a while after that, listening carefully to the eerie quiet of her flat in the wake of Harry and Ron's departure. The only sound was the hollow thrum of her grandfather clock as it ticked away. The noise resonated around her, bouncing off the walls in unnerving echoes. Paranoia set in quickly. Hermione was left alone with the horrible feeling of being watched. She wanted to go outside and talk to the Auror stationed there, but refused to show such weakness. She was a war hero for Merlin's sake!

In the muted light of her flat, the shadows cast by various lamps and pieces of furniture seemed long and frightening. Hermione exhaled loudly, trying to push away the nervous energy that was threatening to overwhelm her. It shouldn't be like this; she shouldn't feel unsafe in her own home. Unable to help it, she quickly made her way over to her front door. She manually locked it and threw the deadbolt. The action made her feel slightly better despite how illogical it was – If someone could apparate through wards strong enough to rival a cell in Azkaban, then it was silly to think they couldn't pick a Muggle lock.

Hermione spent the next few minutes going through her flat locking her windows and drawing her curtains shut. A sense of calm slowly glided down the curves of her shoulders as she went, releasing some of her tension. By the time she was finished, she no longer felt the deep-seated panic in her belly. In its place there seemed to be a cool readiness creeping through her limbs. She reached a hand up to absently press into the spot where the calming sensation had begun. Then she finally allowed herself to give in to the thought she'd been denying for hours: _What if it wasn't over?_

* * *

"Unfortunately, they didn't find anything. Or maybe I should say _fortunate_ly," Harry explained late in the afternoon the following day as he met with Hermione, Ron, and Kingsley in the Minister of Magic's office. He was sitting in a chair with his elbows on his knees and the weight of his worry reflected deep within his emerald eyes. Hermione absently thought he looked twice his age at the moment, but decided not to give in to the whim to say so. She doubted he'd be amused, no matter how many times he'd complained about looking like a toddler next to the other Aurors in his division.

Even though she'd been expecting his announcement since last night, her stomach still clenched uncomfortably at his words. She'd spent the entire day trying to lose herself in her work and forget what had happened. Usually it would have been successful; however, this time she'd found herself unable to push dark thoughts from her mind. All she could think about was how disturbing it'd been to lay in bed feeling terrifyingly vulnerable, despite knowing there was a member of the law enforcement just outside her door if she needed them.

"This doesn't mean we're going to let our guard down," Kingsley promised, his voice deep and confident as he held her gaze from where he stood by the window. He seemed every bit as powerful as he actually was as he crossed his thick arms over his chest. Someone would have to be an idiot to underestimate their towering rock of a Minister.

Hermione nodded numbly. "I know. Let's just hope this is the end of it."

Ron reached over and patted her knee sympathetically. "We don't have enough evidence of a break in to justify keeping someone posted permanently at your home. Will you be alright on your own tonight?"

"Of course," she said immediately. It only took her a second to regret the sureness of her answer, but she was too stubborn to take it back. "I'll be fine. And if anything happens, I know you three are just a short trip away."

"Good," Kingsley boomed, giving her a respectful nod. "Now, as to not show favoritism, we need to treat your case like any other. If you were anyone else, we'd have to put the case aside unless any further action was taken against you. In fact, Potter really shouldn't have jumped so quickly to call the Aurors in last night."

Harry rolled his eyes behind his glasses. "You would have done the same thing."

Kinglsey gave a small smile but didn't disagree.

Hermione tilted her head to the side in confusion, leaning forward in her seat. "What do you mean? Are you saying my case is being dropped?"

"Officially, yes. We're going to have to stop investigating the incident through the Auror department," Ron answered, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. "There's no evidence of the crime except your testimony to a missing _brush_. That's not really enough to validate using Ministry time and money. Let's just hope that it was a fluke… Some idiot who was looking for a couple spare galleons."

"Do you honestly think it was a _fluke_?" she asked, looking around the room at them. Her voice was small and disbelieving as she fought to catch and hold the three men's eyes.

The men fidgeted, glancing at each other in a vain attempt to ignore her gaze. Hermione watched silent communication pass between them and felt instantly agitated. They were keeping something from her and she could feel those secrets filling up the space between them. They knew something more; something that they didn't want her to find out about. Her eyes narrowed.

"Yes, we do," Harry answered at last, his eyes falling to hers as if the confidence in the gesture would make her believe him for a second. He knew her better than that. "But the three of us will keep our eyes open on our own time. If this was more than a petty robbery, we'll be the first to know."

That night, Hermione left the Ministry for home with a heavy pit in her stomach. She didn't know what to think of the fact that someone had broken into her flat for no more than an _antique comb_. It seemed so silly. But she knew what she felt in her gut, and that was that this wasn't over. Whoever it was wanted more than a hand-me-down trinket.

After telling her that there was no reason to be worried about another attempted robbery, Harry, Ron, and Kingsley had mentioned what she could do if she was still nervous. She already had anti-apparation wards on her flat and no access to the floo network, so that was perfect. If she really wanted to, however, they could place a Fidelius Charm on her home. It'd be extreme, but effective. She'd told them she wanted to hold off on that for now, despite how eager Ron and Harry had seemed about the idea.

Again, her denial was instantly regretted. Yet without her knowing all of the facts, she really couldn't justify such an extreme course of action. If she played it flippantly, maybe the others would be forced to clue her in – Just so she'd take it more seriously. It wasn't much a plan, but it was all she had.

Now, as she popped into the small clearing a couple streets over from her flat which served as her apparation point, she kept her hand close to her pocket for quick access to her wand. Hermione couldn't help but feel on edge given all that had happened. It wouldn't do her any good to whip out her wand in front of a Muggle though. She tried to rein in the nerves, letting the mounds of paperwork she'd be required to fill out if she were to make a poor call motivate her forward.

It was raining when her feet hit the grass of the park by her home. She'd chosen the place for its solitude and privacy. It'd been the perfect location to stealthily disappear and reappear every day since she lived in a Muggle neighborhood; unfortunately, the same elements that made it perfect for apparating also made it terrifying to be alone in at night. The tall oak trees cut off all light from the stars overhead and there were no lampposts visible until one walked about a kilometer across the park. Usually the distance seemed insignificant to Hermione, but now she found herself quickening her steps and looking nervously in every which direction. She couldn't get over the nagging feeling that she was trapped inside a game of cat and mouse. A shiver danced over her spine, prickling horribly at the base of her neck.

Hermione tugged her collar up against the rain, hunching her shoulders as if that could prevent her from getting wet. Her heels clicked against the concrete of the walking path as she stepped off of the wet grass and made her way to the street. She kept her eyes up and alert, scanning her surroundings as she hurried along. The walk that usually took her about ten minutes would be done in half the time at this pace. There was a crunch of leaves to her left, but when she looked over there was nothing. The deep howl of the wind as it picked up then only made her already brisk strides quicken. She felt instantly relieved as she finally turned a corner through the path of trees and her eyes fell on a lamppost in the distance. It had to be only two hundred meters or so away now.

As the gusts of wind grew even stronger around her, Hermione's curls suddenly blew up into her face. With a curse, she reached her hands up to wipe the hair from her eyes, drawing them away from the pocket containing her wand as she did so. It was a mistake. The moment her hand had begun to fall away from her face again, she felt her breath leave her like a punch to the gut. She stopped walking and backed up a step anxiously, her hair standing on end and a silent scream building in her throat.

There was a man hovering in the rain just in front of the lamppost now.

He seemed to have come from nowhere. The brightness of its glow cast him completely in shadow. Had it been any other day, Hermione might not have thought anything of it; however, there was something very off about his size. He seemed too large, larger than Kingsley even from this distance. Almost as large as Hagrid. When the stranger's arm twitched at his side, Hermione's eyes were drawn to the unmistakable outline of a wand.

Hermione froze, her hand having unconsciously reached for her own. The man took a menacing step towards her as if to assure her she'd made a wise decision to stop. His giant head cocked oddly to the side, its outline then taking on an inhuman shape. There was something bizarre and unreal about it. And as his face turned slightly to the right she realized what it was.

He had a beak.

Her throat felt tight and choked as terror began to set in. Hermione knew a lot about many things, but she'd never heard of anything like this. Was this man even human? Without recognizing the decision, she reached for her wand to fight. The figure was faster. The moment she moved, his was drawn. A jet of green careened towards her before she'd firmly grasped her wand. She hurled herself out of the path of the Killing Curse, falling roughly onto the concrete. The handle of her wand slipped from her fingers, leaving her defenseless.

Quickly, she crawled forward on her knees. Her fingers ran frantically along the wet ground hoping to find it. Hermione tried to keep her breaths low and calm through it all, but knew she was breathing too heavily. She had let panic overwhelm her, something that she should have known better than to allow. This was a horrible time to forget everything she'd learned from the war.

Large, rough footsteps made their way towards her unguarded figure. Hermione gave one last feel for her wand, but came up short. She turned then, hoping she could defend herself without magic.

She wouldn't be able to. Her eyes widened as she took in the colossal frame of the figure no more than a couple meters from her. The man's sudden proximity illuminated the Venetian mask he was wearing. The mask was bird-like, a large downturned beak in blacks and golds. It would have been beautiful if it weren't on the face of someone who so obviously wanted to kill her. The reddened eyes that flashed behind the mask and the predatory tilt of his head as he looked vacantly down at her were enough to ruin any remaining splendor.

His wand raised slowly then. "Avada –"

A force struck her from the side, shoving her out of the path of the vibrant stream of green just in time for the heat of the spell to slice through where she'd been kneeling. Hermione whimpered as she hit a soft stretch of grass, only to be pressed heavily into the wet dirt by what felt like a boulder collapsing on top of her. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut as a raw pain bloomed in her arm from the impact of her landing. She only had a moment to register the pain before the weight pressing against her vanished.

Hermione blinked her eyes open, wincing at the throbbing in her temples from where her head had made contact with the ground. She gave a shaky breath as she tried to lean up to defend herself again, only to be immediately pressed back down by an invisible force. She winced and struggled before her mind sharpened back into focus in time to witness the impossible.

A winged creature, glowing with all the force of the sun, had taken a defensive stand in front of her, shielding Hermione from the deadly fury of the masked giant with cold determination.

* * *

**AN: I took a break from my Camp NaNo fic, Untouchable, to get this next update out to you all! :) Thank you for all the wonderful support I've gotten so far. I look forward to hearing from you as the story progresses. I really do appreciate the feedback! **

**Amanda**


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